Gods & Monsters
by EleanorBlythe
Summary: Oliver Thredson is Bloody Face. A psychotic murderer who skins his victims in order to feel closer to them. Then along comes Ophelia Harper, a doctor at Briarcliff and the two of them get caught up in a mess, neither of them could have anticipated. OLIVER/OC
1. Chapter 1

They Are The Hunters, We Are The Rabbits

Chapter One

"It's a mad house doctor what did you expect?" Sister Jude asked as she reached the foot of her 'stairway to heaven'.

"I expected some form of treatment, therapy! Sister your hospital still administers electroshock therapy to treat homosexuality, it's barbaric. Behaviour modification is the current standard."

"Tomato, 'tomahto', you know doctor Thredson, let me remind you your job here is to write a recommendation to the court regarding the sanity of one patient. So I suggest you do your job and let me do mine,"

The sound of the door closing upstairs make the doctor and Sister Jude turn to see a woman wearing professional clothes (elegant and flattering pencil skirt and slightly see-through blouse) making her way down the grand staircase in high heels. She stopped two steps before the bottom, eyeing the two of them suspiciously.

"Ah, Dr Harper come and meet our...newest guest," Sister Jude said through gritted teeth. Dr Thredson resisted the urge to roll his eyes then turned his attention to the woman now standing just inches from his face. "Dr Thredson, this is Dr Ophelia Harper."

"Pleased to meet you doctor," Oliver extended his hand and Ophelia raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow before shaking his hand gingerly.

"Sister Jude, Mr and Mrs Potter are waiting in your office," Ophelia turned her attention to the nun, blocking Oliver out as if he weren't even there. He took a moment to examine her. She was beautiful, too beautiful for a hellhole like Briarcliff.

"Yes of course, now if you'll excuse me doctor, there's another unfortunate family who requires our care," Sister Jude said before ascending the stairs to her office, leaving Oliver and Ophelia alone at the foot of the stairs.

"Wanna take a look?" Ophelia leaned in and whispered in Oliver's ear. Before Oliver had a chance to react Ophelia was already walking up the stairs, she stopped and turned briefly to make a gesturing motion with her finger and Oliver soon realised she meant for him to follow her.

Jude was slightly shocked when she saw not one, but two doctors, enter her office. She wanted to tell Ophelia off, for being so careless, but realised it probably was not the correct time to do so in front of the troubled parents.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to interrupt. We haven't finished our conversation, Sister Jude, I didn't realise you had company, I'm doctor Thredson, psychiatrist here,"

"And I'm Doctor Harper, I'm at your service," the two doctors extended their hands to shake Mr and Mrs Potter's hands. Sister Jude rose from her chair and glared at the two of them.

"You need to leave you two!" she hissed the last word out. They merely looked at the sister blankly before Mrs Potter interrupted.

"Sister Jude please our boy is troubled we could use a doctors opinion," Oliver turned to Sister Jude with a satisfied look and the sister backed down and sat in her chair. Oliver and Madison took their positions on top of the table and gestured Mrs Potter to proceed.

"How can we help?" Ophelia asked.

Mrs Potter threw her arms up in a sign of resignation before composing herself to tell the doctors her story.

"Jed just turned seventeen. Over the last month he is grown listless, moody sometimes he doesn't get up from bed days and then the next moment it's like someone's tied a live wire to his body..."

"Adolescents can be a time of the conflict and rebellion..."

"No Doctor, Jed-" she looked over desperately at her husband who seemed to close his eyes at a painful memory. "-sees things, he hears voices that aren't there..."

"I'm afraid to bring us harm." Mr Potter interrupted. "Yesterday we heard terrible cries coming from the barn. When I got there I found Jed covered in blood, speaking a language no one could understand and then I saw what he had done. He had ripped open the belly of our best Guernsey. Ate her heart. It was unholy. It was like, something have stepped inside my boy's body and taken over his soul."

Ophelia and Oliver sat shocked and a little uneasy. Neither of them spoke. Sister Jude looked over at the two doctors and decided to speak up.

"Nothing?" She said rising from her seat. "For a man and woman whose profession relies on talk, talk, talk? You two appeared to be at a loss for words." She glared at the two of them.

"I would need to see him in order to make an accurate diagnosis," Oliver said calmly.

"We brought him here," Mrs Potter squeaked.

"Let's go see the boy now," Sister Jude suggested. She open the door for Mr and Mrs Potter to exit, just as Madison and Oliver were heading for the door she cut them off. She put a hand out to Oliver's chest to stop him. "Dr Thredson you, are but a guest in our institution, don't!" She raised her voice "Wear out your welcome on the first day, and Ophelia...I expected better of you," she scolded before storming out the room. The two doctors shared a look before following the infuriated sister into one of the private rooms within Briarcliff.

Jed Potter sat in the middle of the of the asylum's beds, twitching and muttering to himself. Ophelia hung back to examine the poor boy. He did not look well. Dr Thredson started to examine Jed, but was taken aback when Jed suddenly exploded. His starting to frantically spew out a jumble of words that didn't appear to make a whole lot of sense. Then his head shot to the Sister and his eyes had an almost evil glint to them as he brought his tongue out to lick at his lips.

"This boy needs to be immediately medicated." Oliver said, voice full of authority to mask his fear. Sister Jude shook her head and edged forwards to the troubled teenager.

"No doctor, that's not what this boy needs…"

**Author's Note: soooo, I watched American Horror Story Asylum and I was like "Daaaaaayyym Zachary looks good in 60's clothing" so I realise most of this chapter is not my own words, but I really liked the idea of there being a love interest for Oliver and BAM! Along came Ophelia :3 let me know what you think, I have so much stuff on my laptop, I thought I may as well see if people like it. I love reviews…kay bye guys! **


	2. Chapter 2

They Are The Hunters, We Are The Rabbits – Chapter Two

Sister Jude went away to make 'arrangements' soon after Jed's examination and Ophelia had left Oliver to his own devices. He tried to reassure the parents everything was going to be okay, but in truth he hadn't seen anything like Jed's outburst in his whole career, and judging by Dr Harper's reaction neither had she.

He later wondered into the common room, looking for anything to occupy himself until the 'specialist' arrived, when he heard a high pitched scream emanating from the back of the room. A hysterical woman ran through the double doors with a few orderlies quickly following her behind, trying to restrain her. Oliver held back as the orderlies grasped hold of the woman before she could attack a passing patient. Among the chaos, Dr Thredson saw Ophelia Harper standing, leaning against the door in a nonchalant manner, and casually watching the events unfold. The now crying woman started lashing out her long nails at the men in white, scratching at their faces, causing one of the orderlies to cry out in pain and fall backwards. Ophelia rolled her eyes and drew something out of her blazer pocket. She advanced toward her patient and injected a needle into the patient's neck with little difficulty. The patient's efforts became lacking and she soon dropped to the floor, unconscious. Madison breathed an exasperated sigh, before turning her attention back to one of the orderlies.

"Take Ms Carlton back to her room, when she awakes please let me know." Oliver was amazed at how calm this woman could possibly be after such an outburst of insanity. The man in white uttered a response before picking up the limp body and carrying her out. Ophelia pulled a cigarette case from her pocket inside her slim cut jacket and proceeded to light it. She caught Oliver staring at her from the dark corner of the room and wondered over to him.

"Doctor Thredson, you look a little pale, I do hope that spectacle wasn't too much for you?" she said with a hint of patronisation. Oliver shook his head.

"No, not at all, it is to be expected in a place like this, my surprise was how well you handled the situation," Ophelia scoffed and took another drag of her cigarette.

"Oh right, because I'm just a feeble woman, aren't I?" she eyed him as he took in her words before babbling to try and correct her.

"No! No that's not what I meant at all!" he defended. She smirked again. Oliver had the feeling that Dr Harper enjoyed seeing him uncomfortable 'That bitch!' he thought angrily before realising she had already started to walk away, Oliver stared after her wide eyed and mouth open half in surprise the other in disgust. 'Who does she think she is?! She can't just walk away when I'm trying to apologise…' his internal monologue was cut short when she turned back to him, spinning on her heel. He was taken aback slightly by her sudden movements and once again she smirked. Oliver clenched and unclenched his fists slowly as she started to walk back towards him.

"Doctor Thredson, it would seem the patients have gone to have dinner, would you like to join me for a little bite?" Oliver stood, thinking how that statement sounded like a sexual invitation. He shook that thought aside and reluctantly nodded at her. She smiled and immediately started to walk away with Oliver Thredson in tow.

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The two doctors sat in Ophelia's office smoking and drinking coffee. Neither of them trusted the food from the kitchen, so they had stuck to cigarettes and coffee from a local café. Neither of them spoke for a while, until Ophelia extinguished her cigarette.

"Do you really think that boy is possessed?" she asked sceptically.

"I don't know. I hope not, dealing with demonic teenagers is not why I'm here," Oliver grumbled.

"Oh? And why are you here?" she asked, pretending to sound interested.

"I'm here to asses Kit Walker's competency to stand trial."

"Ah yes, the 'Bloody Face' killer…" he saw her shiver slightly. "Very interesting."

"If psychotic murderers are your cup of tea, then yes."

"I was asked to create a psychological profile of Bloody Face when the first victim turned up, it was quite…disturbing to say the least."

"So why aren't you studying him, instead of me?" Oliver asked, sipping on his coffee.

"It became too difficult after a while, I mean this guy, whoever he is, he must have had to most horrible childhood, my guess is he was pushed into what he did, it was just sad to think that no one could understand what he was going through and instead, treated him like he doesn't have a heart." She stopped and looked up at Oliver who was looking at her with an expression she couldn't read. "Sorry." She mumbled before picking up her coffee and sipping thoughtfully.

Oliver was amazed. No one else had seen it like she had. Bloody Face wasn't an emotionless monster, but a man, plagued by his own obsessions and compulsions. Which, as it happens, was exactly what Oliver was struggling with. He found that he had formed some form of attraction to her, despite half an hour ago thinking of ways to kill her.

"Don't be sorry, your insights are…interesting." He finally said. She gave him a small smile, before the door opened. Sister Jude stood eyeing the two doctors, sitting on the desk in relative close proximity to one another, then rolled her eyes.

"The Monsignor will be here any minute so get down to the lobby." She said bluntly before storming off.

"Why is the Monsignor here?" Oliver asked getting off the desk and discarding his coffee cup in the bin.

"He's brought the specialist with him." Ophelia answered smoothing her pencil skirt and hopping off the desk.

"What specialist, exactly?" Ophelia turned sharply and gave him a mildly scared look.

"Well…the exorcist…" she wavered.

"A what?!" Oliver asked unbelievingly.

"Well who did you think they were sending over, we've already established that that boy is not right!" she protested.

"Yes, but I thought they were sending for a specialist doctor, not a witch doctor." Oliver snapped. Ophelia sighed and walked out the door.

"We don't make the rules here doctor, this place belongs to the Catholic Church." She said, starting to descend the stairs. "If you're really that concerned, you should talk to Monsignor Howard, but I doubt he would see your reasoning…" she mumbled reaching the bottom where Mr and Mrs Potter were sitting nervously on the bench in the lobby. "I'll be right back." She said before strutting off into the darkness. Oliver was left standing awkwardly. He couldn't figure out this woman, one moment she was approachable and friendly, and the next as cold as an icicle. Oliver caught the eye of the worried mother and sat next to the two parents. He said nothing for a moment, then turned to face them.

"In my estimation, the county hospital might be better equipped to treat your son,"

"They already called in a specialist." Mrs Potter countered.

"Mr and Mrs Potter, are you aware what kind of specialist is on his way over here?"

"The Monsignor explained the situation to us." Mr Potter said, his face set in a stern line.

Oliver heard the sounds of Sister Jude's voice and a door opening, he excused himself and approached the sound. He saw Sister Jude, Monsignor Howard and Doctor Harper come into the lobby.

"Monsignor." Oliver addressed the group.

"Ah, this must be…"

"The tiresome, Doctor Thredson." Sister Jude drawled.

"Doctor Thredson." Timothy said, as if tasting the word on his tongue "Doctor Harper here was just explaining to me your concerns."

"It is 1964 for God's sake. An exorcism? You can't be serious."

"The times may have changed, Doctor, but the nature of evil has not."

"And you expect me to stand by as some witch doctor just-"

"Stand by? On the contrary, Doctor, what I expect is for you to assist."

Oliver's eyes flittered to the three people and wondered if they were on some form of drug.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You may view us as backward and barbaric, but the church requires a licenced physician to be present at all exorcisms. As a psychiatrist, you're also a medical doctor…"

"But you are mistaken if you think that by making me an accomplice, I won't report what I've seen here."

Then another voice sounded behind Oliver, he turned and saw a man in a wheelchair coming towards the group.

"An unbeliever? Good. I like having one in the room, ups me game."

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Jed whimpered as he was tied down to the bed, people rushed around him as Sister Jude stood by watching the madness ensue around her. Monsignor Howard and Doctor Thredson were restraining the poor boy, whilst Ophelia prepared some syringes of liquid, should they be needed.

"Make them tight now!" Father Malachi barked orders.

"You're hurting me, why are you hurting me?" Jed cried. Ophelia faltered from her task and looked in sympathy at him. 'Poor kid.' She thought.

"Don't listen to it, the demon is a liar, if it speaks to you don't answer just do your job."

Ophelia could see the boy's state had deteriorated considerably. She came toward him and checked his pulse.

"God, this boy's pulse is almost non-existent." She worried, but then an inhuman roar escaped Jed and the bed rose off the ground, startling everyone. Oddly enough Oliver's first instinct was to protect Ophelia, he guessed because she was closest to the possessed child…

"Prayer book, Sister!" Malachi ordered again. As the Sister went to retrieve the book, Jed started hissing, a horrible sound, in this horrible room, doing this horrible thing.

"Your work here is done, my daughter, go sit with the parents, this is no place for a woman."

"I'm stronger than you think." Sister Jude defended. 'Why would she want to stay?' Ophelia thought to herself. She herself couldn't wait to get the hell out of there.

"The Potter's will be needing some of that strength." He replied bluntly, obviously wanting her out of there.

"Godspeed, Sister Jude." Howard said, readying his beads.

"Good luck." Ophelia said earnestly to Oliver before she left, squeezing his muscly arm once, for some kind of reassurance and then practically ran for the door.

Father Malachi started to read the rituals and the exorcism had begun.

**Author's Note: Hey guys thanks for being so patient, I am really sorry about the long gap and the maybe not so satisfying chapter you got, but I thought about making one long chapter, but I wanted to spread them out and pace myself. So I actually have some of my own dialogue in there now, woohoo, and a bit of the actual episode speech in there too, let me know what you think. **

**I'm actually not too sure about how I want Oliver and Ophelia's relationship to play out, I have a few ideas, but I would love your opinions, seeing as you're the ones reading this ;P**

**Anyhow, hopefully new chapter before the next millennium ;) **


	3. Chapter 3

Oliver tried to help Jed, while the two men of God babbled nonsense in the background.

"Heart rate increasing, blood pressure rising."

"Oliver." A familiar sounding voice emanated from Jed. Oliver looked down with uncertainty. "Look at you, I've see what you've become, I'm glad I gave you up."

That hit a nerve in Oliver and he snatched away his stethoscope, stepping back. It was like his mother had just spoken right at him. He was shaken.

"Don't listen to it, Doctor," Father Malachi warned.

"Lose your place old man!" Jed erupted, leaning up and glaring at the Father. Malachi tried to ignore him.

Timothy Howard was making a sign of the cross with his crucifix, muttering something completely unhelpful.

"Stick it up your ass, Father!" The demon was obviously starting to get angry. He started mockingly repeating a line of the ritual, causing Oliver to take another step back, not liking where this was heading.

"'Every impure spirit' yes we've already heard that part now skip ahead! You're boring the hell out of me." Possessed Jed said in a guttural voice. The next thing he men knew a bible was flung out of Father Malachi's hand then, said Father being flung across the room. Oliver and Timothy ran to the disabled man's assistance.

All the while Jed cackled in the background. 

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Ophelia sat with Mr and Mrs Potter, while Sister Jude said a prayer in a peaceful tone. She saw Monsignor Howard descend the staircase with a worried expression on his face. Ophelia took that as a bad sign and headed off to find Oliver.

She found him just coming out of the infirmary. He looked exhausted. She scampered over as best she could in her high heels.

"What the hell happened?" She asked wide eyed.

"The witch doctor was thrown across the room." Oliver said as if he wasn't quite believing what he was saying.

"What?!"

"The boy really is possessed." Oliver shivered.

"Will Father Malachi be okay?" She asked concerned.

"Should be, just a lump on the head."

"What about the boy?"

"To be honest, I'm not so sure what we can do."

"Maybe you should end it now? Ease his pain." She suggested. Oliver span around to face her with a look of shock.

"That's malpractice." He squeaked.

"Come on Oliver, is this like any other patient we would've treated in the real world?" Ophelia protested.

"I don't know..."

"Oliver." She said softly, he looked down and saw her talking hold of his arm and absentmindedly rubbing circles with her thumb across his skin. Her skin was warm and soft and Oliver had to control the hitch in his breath as she touched him. "We're not like them. We're not sadists, determined to put our patients through living hell, do the most loving thing…" Oliver continued to stare down at her, disguising the dark look in his eye. Ophelia suddenly realised what she was doing and quickly snatched her hand away. They both looked at each other, trying to determine who would talk first.

"Ah, there you two are." Monsignor Howard's voice broke through the silence. "We're going to rid this demon once and for all, Ophelia, would you help?"

"Of course, Father. Where is Sister Jude?"

"I left her to watch over the boy. Now come." He made a notion with his fingers and urged them to follow him back to that God forsaken room. When they arrived they heard screaming and shouting, they ran to the door and saw Sister Jude slapping Jed and yelling "You're a liar!" over and over. Timothy took care of Jude, while Oliver and Ophelia tried to restrain the now overexcited spirit of something that was definitely no longer Jed Potter.

The Monsignor came back into the room and looked like he meant business. He raised his rosemary and shouted, yet more prayers, but this time something flickered in Jed's eyes and it made the lights flicker around the asylum. This did not deter Timothy as he splashed holy water on the demon, Ophelia ignored the futile attempts of Howard and readied a syringe of liquid that was supposed to act as a tranquiliser.

"For God's sake, there's no more time for prayers! His heart can't handle it." Oliver protested, seeing Ophelia preparing herself to inject Jed.

"Help him! Help him now!" Howard shouted over Jed's moans and cries.

"We sedate him!" Ophelia yelled. She injected the needle into Jed's chest, who let out an almost primal howl of pain. The lights were now flickering uncontrollably, then suddenly the light bulb above the bed blew. Ophelia yelped and Oliver immediately dove over Ophelia so she wasn't hit by the broken shards of glass. Then there was quiet.

The power grid had shut down.

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Silence.

"Are you okay?" Oliver was the first to speak, addressing Ophelia.

"Yeah…" she replied dazed. "Yeah I think so, what the hell was that?"

"I don't know, a power outage?"

"Oh my God!" Ophelia breathed, she shot up from her cowered position and span round to face Oliver nose to nose. "The patients! They'll be loose,"

"The orderlies, will see to that," Monsignor Howard said from the other side of the bed. There was another silence, until Jed started to gurgle and foam at the mouth. Both Oliver and Ophelia looked at each other in confusion, this wasn't supposed to be the reaction. Suddenly Jed lashed out again, but his movements were becoming sluggish, like he was losing the will to fight. He fell back onto the bed and started choking on his own air.

"Something's wrong, he's in cardiac arrest." Oliver said worriedly before bending and giving him mouth to mouth.

Ophelia looked on in horror as she watched what was left of that poor boy's soul fight for his life. By now the other two Sister's had joined and watched the scene play out in front of them. It all seemed hopeless until, Jed bolted upright and gasped his final breath before collapsing onto the bed. Oliver continued to try and resuscitate him, but Ophelia knew it was useless.

"He's dead." Oliver said gravely. Everyone else stood and stared disbelievingly. The sound of rumbling and a crucifix that was on the wall clattering to the floor seemed to highlight how God had failed the poor boy.

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Ophelia sat in her car, in Briarcliff's parking lot, numb. Her eyes were wide staring in front of her, at nothing in particular and her arms uselessly at her side. She couldn't believe it. Jed Potter was dead. Was it her fault? Had the syringe been filled with the wrong medication? Everything pointed to her. She was to blame.

And so, she sat.

"You know, just sitting there won't make the car move," a voice through the glass made her yell in fright and jump in her seat. She scowled at the voice, which turned out to be Doctor Oliver Thredson looking at her, a concerned expression gracing his face. She rolled down the window and let loose a shaky breath.

"Doctor, you scared the living daylights out of me!"

"My apologies, but you have been seated in your car for ten minutes and you haven't moved, I was worried you'd had some kind of seizure...but you obviously haven't."

"I was lost in thought,"

"About?" Oliver pressed. Ophelia sighed and stepped out of the car. She slammed the door shut and slouched against the side of the car, looking up and the night sky.

"About that kid," she said eventually. "He died, and it's all my fault."

"How?"

"I gave him an injection without seeing how it would react with his body."

"You couldn't have known," Oliver reassured her in a soft voice.

"I killed him!" She yelled at him, eyes prickling with tears. Oliver was struck at how she was taking this to heart. She wasn't as cold as he initially thought after all. She was compassionate. A stray tear had run down Ophelia's cheek, Oliver wiped it away with the pad of his thumb and hooked his thumb and finger under her chin, tilting up to meet his eye.

"This is not your fault, okay? Whatever that monster was, it was on its way out, you saw the state of that boy. It couldn't possible end well." Oliver told her calmly. Ophelia sniffed and nodded. Oliver was tempted to kiss her, but decided against it. 'Keep it professional, Oliver!' His inner self scolded.

"Ugh, give me a cigarette, will you?" Ophelia asked, a touch of laughter entering her voice. Oliver smiled and pulled out his cigarette case. Ophelia held the cigarette against her perfect lips as Oliver held a flame to the end. She exhaled with puckered lips and Oliver had a sudden wish that those lips would be wrapped around his...

"Thank you, Oliver," Ophelia's voice broke through Oliver's obscene, yet delicious thoughts.

They spent the rest of their time together in silence, leant against Ophelia's car smoking and eyes on the stars, trying desperately to forget the horrors of what the night had to offer.


	4. Chapter 4

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Oliver woke up the next day in an empty bed. As usual. He almost wished he had asked Doctor Harper to stay for a drink...and then some. He sighed heavily at the preposterous nature of his thoughts and readied himself for another day in the hellhole. Pardon, Briarcliff.

He had driven through the violent wind and rain and managed to run into the building during a brief break from the weather. His session with Kit Walker had been uninteresting, although he was shocked and angry that due to Sister Jude's barbaric treatment of her charges, Kit had been unable to sit throughout his entire therapy session from the welts on his backside.

He found the Sister kneading dough in the kitchen looking quite upset over something.

"Sister?" He asked advancing into the room.

"Inclement weather, always upsets the natives, their fragile souls..."

"That's why you should stop using corporal punishment. At our meeting this morning Mr Walker couldn't even sit down. I know you're probably unfamiliar with the work of B.F Skinner, but positive reinforcement is proven to be far more effective."

Sister Jude ignored him and carried on with her task.

"In lay terms, Sister, a little compassion would go a long way..."

"Me? I'm a beacon of compassion." She snapped. "In fact I spent all morning on the phone with St Angela Parish, to borrow their movie projector, I thought a movie could distract our charges when the storm hits."

Oliver's brow furrowed. "I wouldn't have figured you for a movie buff,"

"Even I can concede that here exceptions to the usual Hollywood dreck. The Archdiocese is lending us a copy of 'The Sign of the Cross'."

"I'm impressed." Oliver said genuinely surprised. "And if there's anything I can do, please don't hesitate to ask. Oh. As the attending physician of Jed Potter I'll need his autopsy report."

"I'm very busy doctor, I'll try to locate it." Jude said becoming agitated.

"I'll bet it said he died of natural causes."

"If it's natural for a seventeen years old boy to die of a heart attack." Jude almost snarled.

"You have quite a suspicious mind, sister, bordering on delusional...or maybe it's a form of projection, a cover to protect your own guilty conscience. Sister Jude's head snapped up and her eyes narrowed.

"It was you, wasn't it," she whispered. Oliver frowned. "The newspaper, where did you get it?"

"What newspaper?" Oliver asked confused. Sister Jude took a step back, almost examining him and went back to her bread kneading.

"That office we gave you, I need it back, you've had more than enough time to advice the courts, you've got two weeks and you're out!" She slammed the bread on the table and Oliver shook his head leaving her to it.

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Later he was in the common room, listening to Lana Winters ask him for a favour. He was only half listening to her because he could see that Ophelia Harper had arrived, soaked to the bone talking to one of the orderlies in the hall, through the open common room doors. She quickly finished her conversation and practically ran up the staircase.

Oliver took the note Lana had asked him to deliver to Wendy and hurriedly followed after her.

"Doctor Harper?" He knocked once and entered without really thinking. He stood in the doorway, jaw hanging low.

Ophelia had her back to him and was in the process of undressing (or redressing) her pencil skirt was on up to her waist and she wore a black silk bra. She obviously hadn't heard him as she bent over removing her stockings and discarding them with a pile of wet clothes on the floor. Oliver stared at her as he watched her spine roll with her movements. As she started putting on a new crisp blouse he decided it was time to make his presence known and cleared his throat. She span around, her top still undone and gasped loudly, quickly wrapping the top over her chest.

"Oh God! Oliver! I didn't hear you I'm sorry!" She blushed furiously and fumbled to do her top up. Only she had buttoned them up all wrong. She sighed heavily, flapping her arms uselessly at her side before turning again and readjusting her blouse.

"My apologies, Doctor Harper, I was merely concerned about your late arrival..."

"My car broke down." She replied exhausted.

"Oh." Oliver said quietly. Ophelia span round to face him and started to collect up her wet, muddy clothes off the floor.

"Yeah. I broke down five miles away from here and then had to walk about a mile in the rain to a bus stop which took me in the wrong direction. Then eventually I found a cab driver who didn't know where Briarcliff Manor was, so we had a magical mystery tour for about an hour. Even when I arrived at Briarcliff, he only dropped me off at the gate so I had to walk up the grounds in the pouring rain and now here I am!" She finished getting more and more irate as her story progressed until she finally slammed her desk drawer shut and collapsed in her chair.

"I'm sorry." Oliver said lamely after a pause. Ophelia looked up at him and then laughed.

"Oh, no, I'm sorry," she groaned. "Just a stressful day and I haven't even had my first patient yet."

"What happened to your car?"

"I called my mechanic before you arrived at my door, he owes me a few favours, but how I'm gonna get home tonight on this weather is beyond me."

"I could drive you home," Oliver offered. Ophelia seemed to do a double take then returned her gaze to his.

"That would be very chivalrous of you," she smiled. Oliver made an incoherent noise, meant as a "hey! Don't worry about it," and it made Ophelia's smile grow even wider.

"Thank you, Oliver." She said earnestly.

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"A Mexican, a sex crazed deviant and a pin-head won't get far in this storm, I hope they all drown out there. Lights out in ten minutes!" Sister Jude called out before walking away. Frank shouted orders as people filtered out of the common room. Ophelia walked up behind Oliver and rocked back and forth on her heel.

"Well, personally I think movie night was a success!" she said sarcastically. Oliver turned to face her and grinned.

"It wasn't great, was it?" he conceded. He looked at his watch and saw it was getting late. "Well then, shall we get the young lady home?" he asked smiling. Ophelia nodded and the two of them managed to get to the car without getting totally soaked, they had shared an umbrella.

"I sure hope the weather lets up while you're driving," Ophelia said wishfully.

"Don't count on it." Oliver moaned as he pulled out of Briarcliff.

They rode in peaceful silence with the radio chattering in the background. That was until one of the news reports caught Ophelia's attention.

'Weather warning: North bridge had been cut off by a broken tree, do not venture out as electrical wires still loose, repeat North bridge is out of bounds'

"Oh you've got to be kidding me." Ophelia said through gritted teeth.

"What?" Oliver asked distractedly, focusing on what little road he could see ahead.

"North Bridge is the only way you can get to mine, unless you go all the way around the city."

"Ah."

"Ugh is there any motel near you, I could just stay there for the night."

"No! No, don't be silly I won't leave you in one of those places…I have a spare bedroom you can sleep there."

"Oh wow, Oliver, are you sure? Wouldn't that be weird?"

"Well it's that or stained mattresses and leaky radiators…" Oliver said looking over at Ophelia making a distasteful face. Ophelia laughed and nodded in defeat.

"You have me there," Oliver smirked and drove on carefully to his place.

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"Thank you, again for this, it was very sweet of you." Ophelia said as she shrugged off her jacket and Oliver hung it in Oliver's entry way.

"No problem at all." He led her through to the lounge and invited her to sit on one of the sofas. "Relax, you've had an incredibly stressful day, I'm gonna prescribe a little something to take the edge off…"

"Are you trying to drug me, doctor?" she asked her voice lowering.

"A big delicious glass of wine."

"Mm, that sounds agreeable."

"White or red?"

"White." Oliver smiled and went into the kitchen. Ophelia took a chance to admire the doctor's home and was struck by a painting on one of the walls. She studied it so intently she wasn't aware of Oliver's presence until he tapped her on the shoulder and handed her a wine glass. "Oh!" she said quietly. "I was just admiring your art piece."

"Do you like it?"

"I think it is very interesting." She said no longer looking at the artwork, but directly at Oliver. Oliver swallowed imperceptibly and led her back to the couch.

"Do you like it?" she asked back.

"Why do you ask?"

"It's in the dark corner of the room, like it's hiding."

"I do like it, but I find it's beauty a little overwhelming sometimes…" Oliver said, again not looking at the painting, but at Ophelia's angelic face. She looked away from the painting and towards Oliver and saw a look in his eyes that matched hers.

Ophelia smiled gently placed her wine glass down on the table.

"Well, how long have you had it?"

"Not long, but I find myself being drawn to it more and more, recently." Oliver said lowly.

"How so?" Ophelia asked, a slow smirk spreading across her face as she started to slide closer to him. Oliver set his wine down and removed his glasses, placing them carefully on the coffee table.

"At first it struck me as rather mysterious, cold almost. But now, although it is still an enigma to me, I can't help but feel enticed by it..." His voice got quieter and quieter as he leant in close. They were mere centimetres from their lips touching, but the shrill sound of Oliver's telephone ringing brought them back to Earth. They jumped and stared wide eyes at each other before begrudgingly pulling away. Oliver answered his phone with his usual; "Thredson residence" but with a twinge of annoyance. It wasn't anyone particularly exciting, just someone who had promised to call back. He turned around and saw Ophelia retreating to her spare bedroom for the night. She looked back and gave Oliver a small sympathy smile before shutting her door behind her.

So close, and yet so far.


	5. Chapter 5

Ophelia awoke to the next morning, refreshed and she could smell something pleasant drifting throughout the house. She got out of bed and remembered that she was wearing one of Oliver's shirts. She smelt faintly of cigarette smoke and whiskey. She padded through the doctor's home and finally came to the kitchen, where she saw Oliver standing by the stove wearing his pyjama bottoms, with no top. His muscles tensed as he moved around the kitchen fetching ingredients. She cleared her throat, for it had gone dry and stammered a sentence together.

"Good morning," she said eventually. Oliver turned around looking mildly surprised, but smiled politely anyhow.

"Good morning, Doctor Harper." He mumbled sleepily before spooning two Croque-monsieur onto two plates and placing them on the kitchen table. "Are you hungry?" Ophelia nodded and perched on kitchen chair as Oliver fetched a coffee pot from the side, holding it up to Ophelia with a lop-sided grin.

"Ooh, come to momma," she gushed and graciously took the container from him. Oliver couldn't pretend hearing the word 'momma' didn't stir something inside him, but he ignored it as he settled down next to her. They were silent as they ate. Oliver noted how beautiful and peaceful she looked as she sat wearing just his shirt, with no makeup on. He reluctantly tore his eyes away from Ophelia and looked out of the window. The nor 'eastern Storm had finally passed. He looked back over at Ophelia, who was just finishing her breakfast.

"Looks like the worst is behind us," he said gesturing to the outside.

"Yes, it is, isn't it?" she said softly, smiling at Oliver.

Little did she know that the worst was yet to come…

* * *

><p>Later at Briarcliff, Ophelia had just come from a meeting with one of her minor patients, nothing particularly exciting and she was on her way to her office when she came across Daniel being guided outside Thredson's office, by Oliver himself. He obviously hadn't seen her and shut the office door behind him, while Daniel wrapped the dressing gown back around him. Ophelia stood wide eyed and mouth gaping. She cautiously approached Daniel, wondering what the hell he was doing.<p>

"Daniel?" she called out. He turned around looking quite embarrassed and when he turned to her voice he cowered a little. "Daniel? What where you doing?!" At that moment Ophelia feared the worst. Had Oliver Thredson been gay all this time? And why would he risk his position (however brief) by inviting a patient for a quick shag in his office?

"I'm sorry, Doctor Harper," he said in a quiet, shaking voice.

"What were you doing in Doctor Thredson's office? You are Doctor Simmons' patient not Doctor Thresdon's,"

"I was helping him, with one of his patients."

"Who?"

"Lana Winters."

Ophelia stood in silence. Lana was not Oliver's patient. She was hers. How dare he interfere with her patient's progress? She turned to Daniel who flinched slightly, she relaxed and sighed.

"Go on, Daniel." She mumbled. He scurried away and she retreated to her office, slamming the door behind her, so hard she was certain that Oliver would hear. She opened and slammed filing cabinets taking out anything to distract her from her angry thoughts.

* * *

><p>Oliver heard the slamming of doors and desk drawers and wondered what Ophelia was doing. Once he had finished with Lana he went to go and see what she was up to. He knocked tentatively and popped his head around her door. He found her filing her cabinet furiously, making far too much noise for anyone else in the corridor to concentrate.<p>

"Doctor Harper?" she didn't hear him so he raised his voice over the sound of metallic shrieking. "Ophelia!" She turned around and met Oliver's confused expression with her own mix of anger and annoyance.

"What were you doing with Lana Winters?" Ophelia wasn't in the mood for beating around the bush, taking Oliver by surprise.

"What do you mean?" he defended.

"Have you forgotten that she is _my _patient?"

"No I have not, it's just that she asked for my help," Oliver half lied. Ophelia stared at Oliver blankly.

"Help with what?" she hissed. Oliver sighed and removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose trying to relieve his stress. When he placed his glasses back on he approached her in a less defensive manner.

"Ophelia you know as well as I that Lana Winters does not belong here…"

"That is irrelevant, Oliver! You can't just go against the ruling of the Catholic Church…or the law! Both have determined that Miss Winters is to remain at Briarcliff, under my supervision, and if and when Sister Jude and her team deem her sane for public re-entry it will be under my signature, not yours!"

"You think she's insane?" Oliver asked sarcastically.

"You're not listening to me, Oliver. This is beyond my control, no she shouldn't be here, but you can't just break the law to get one woman out of here, if you do that you'll have to do that with about fifty other patients stuck here." Ophelia collapsed into her desk chair and flapped her arms uselessly at her sides. "What do you want me to do?"

"Are you listening to yourself?" Oliver said with a hint of disgust, scrunching his nose in distaste.

"Oliver we are not in the high positions of power here, we have to play by their rules." Ophelia reasoned.

"I know, Ophelia," Oliver said softly, "But I'm helping her recover whether you like it or not…you could help, we could leave here feeling like we've done some good, at least."

"Easy for you to say you get to leave at the end of the week," Ophelia mumbled. Oliver stood looking at his shoes for a moment, when an idea struck him.

"Come with me." He said simply. Ophelia looked up at him, as if he was the insane one.

"What?"

"You hate it here, come with me, there are better jobs out there and you know it,"

"Oliver I can't just pack up and leave…"

"Why not?" Oliver cut her off.

"Well…" Ophelia thought and then laughed at the absurdity of the entire situation. "Where would we go?"

"I was planning of moving to California, there are quite a few good universities out there, I was hoping to get a job teaching psychology," Oliver said casually.

"What, just like that?" Ophelia asked, half exasperated, half amazed that she was unaware of the variety of career paths she could follow.

"Yes, the teaching field is crying out for fresh meat, and with our track records, we should have no problem getting a good position in a university." Oliver said with gusto, attempting to rally Ophelia into coming with him. Eventually she reclined back in her seat and took out a cigarette.

"I'll think about it," she said at last. "But do not think that this dismisses the fact that you've been handling another patient without my consent. I am not happy Doctor Thredson." She said sternly.

"I understand, Doctor Harper." Oliver admitted and bowed his head slightly in shame. "But, you will consider California?" he asked in a hopeful tone.

"I will," she said softly, "alright, now get out of here," she dismissed him with a wave of her hand and a small smirk, which Oliver caught. He sent her a small wink in return and exited her office.

In the end, the whole talk of California proved fruitless. By the end of the week Kit Walker was arrested and would later be electrocuted for the Bloody Face murders. Lana Winters had escaped somehow and Doctor Oliver Thredson had left Briarcliff for good, leaving Ophelia alone in Briarcliff Manor: An asylum for the criminally insane.

**Author's Note: Hey guys sorry this is late…again, but I assure you this is not the end, it's only just beginning *cue evil laughter* but anyhow, leave a review PLEASEEEEE! And I'll update as often as I can, what with four other projects I'm working on, love you guys!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Woo super productive. Longer chapter than usual. I put something in this chapter I wasn't too sure about (you'll probably know it when you see it) Please let me know if it was the right thing or if I made a mistake, review as usual my lovely people and new chapter soon!**

Ophelia was continuing her rounds on another drab day in Briarcliff when a sudden mass of nuns and guards swarmed into the lobby. Ophelia followed along behind to see what the commotion was.

'_Must be a new patient.' _She thought. She went to walk away, when she saw a sight that she thought she'd never see.

Lana Winters, unconscious in a stretcher. She looked awful, something serious must have happened to her.

"Excuse me please!" a passing orderly said as they hurriedly moved Lana along to the treatment ward. Ophelia was surprised to say the least, she thought Lana was long gone, after all it had been two weeks. What had happened to her? Ophelia made an effort to find out once Lana was awake.

A few days later, Ophelia had her opportunity, she was passing by the isolation corridor when she heard a commotion coming from one of the open cells.

"No! I won't take them! I have to stay awake! Where is Sister Jude? I have to speak with Sister Jude," Ophelia came into the room witnessing Lana wrestling with one of the nuns attempting to give her some medication.

"It's alright!" Ophelia called into the room, the nun turned around and Lana stopped struggling, "I'll see to her," Ophelia said and urged the nun to leave the two women alone.

"Where is Sister Jude? I need to speak with Sister Jude," Lana repeated.

"Sister Jude is no longer with us," Ophelia said as she retrieved the medicine that was dropped onto the floor. "Sister Mary Eunice, is in charge." She finished.

"She is?" Lana said in mild disbelief. Ophelia nodded in a way as if she didn't quite understand it either.

"Now, you simply must take-" Ophelia began and held up Lana's medicine and a cup of water.

"No, you don't understand. Doctor Thredson…" Lana cut her off and leapt out of bed, a clear look of horror and fear on her face. Ophelia couldn't understand her fear though.

"Doctor Thredson isn't here either," she replied.

"He's a murderer." Lana said darkly. Ophelia was dumbstruck.

"What?" she said after a few moments pause.

"He killed Wendy."

"Wendy…?" Ophelia repeated trying to determine who this mysterious 'Wendy' was.

"My Wendy! And all the others! It was him, it was Thredson. Right from the start it was him!" She said frantically, "You have to send for the police! You have to stop him!" Lana started advancing towards her and was one step away from begging, Ophelia took a step away and glared down at Lana.

"Calm down," She warned. Lana didn't respond, so Ophelia tried again. "Get back in bed, please, or I'll be forced to get Frank to restrain you."

"No, no no no." Lana whimpered as she crawled back into bed. "I can't be chained down again,"

'_Again? What does she mean again?'_ Ophelia' inner thoughts scrambled as Lana looked up worriedly at the good doctor.

"You don't know what happened," Lana looked up imploringly at Ophelia and Ophelia could do nothing more than chalk it up to delusions of grandeur, from the incident.

"I know you've been in a very, very serious automobile accident and you're confused…" she spoke calmly.

"I'm not confused!" Lana cried. "I'm telling you Kit Walker in innocent. Oliver Thredson is Bloody Face!"

Ophelia realised the only way she could get Lana to calm down, is if she was to play along with the string of accusations the mad woman was throwing out.

"He admitted everything to me- what he does to them,"

"I believe you." Ophelia said with as much courage as she could muster.

"You do?" Lana questioned.

"Yes." Ophelia said uncomfortably. Lana seemed to believe her and squeezed Ophelia's hand for support. Ophelia smiled and urged Lana to lay down.

"Please, doctor, he cannot know that I'm here,"

"No one knows." Ophelia reassured. "No one knows that you're here," she said again softer. She went to retrieve the medicine and gave them to Lana. "Now please just- just take these," She tried to say as casually as possible.

"You have to go to the police," Lana said. She wasn't letting up on her story, "all of the evidence is in his basement,"

"I understand," Ophelia nodded and handed the cups over "I do."

Lana shakily took her medication and sipped on the water, before looking back up to the doctor.

"It's where he kills them…it's where he violated me," Lana said with hatred. Ophelia resisted the urge to grimace and instead gave her a reassuring smile that she was on the case. That was when Doctor Harper noticed something peculiar on Lana's leg. A strong red mark around one of her ankles. She couldn't have possible gotten that from the car accident, it looked like a clamp had been placed around it and it was raw red from excessive movement. _'Is this what she meant by being "chained down again"?'_

"You're safe now," Ophelia heard from somewhere, when she realised it was from her own mouth. She didn't really believe in what she was saying, because who was ever _really_ safe at Briarcliff and who ever _really _knew anyone.

Ophelia left that room feeling shaken up, she heard heavy boots coming down the corridor as she passed off a tray to a passing nun.

"How is she?" Frank asked.

"She's still very confused I'm afraid, she claims that Doctor Thredson attacked her. She says, well she insists that Kit Walker is innocent,"

Frank scoffed at both accusations and started to walk away with Ophelia.

"Well state police have got a different story. Kit Walker's escaped custody, he's a fugitive. Order on him is shoot on site,"

"Jesus…" She breathed. She had to do something about what Lana had said to her. Was she telling the truth? Or was she concussed from the crash. Ophelia realised it was very convenient that Lana should escape the same day Thredson was leaving. Ophelia turned these theories over in her head as she walked with Frank to the lobby. He was talking about something, probably Kit.

"Frank I'm sorry, but I have to go I just remembered I have something important to do."

"Oh sure thing, what is it you have to do?"

"House call." She mumbled as she quickly made her way to her car.

* * *

><p>Ophelia knocked on the door to Oliver's home. She needed answers. So much had happened and, though she hated to admit it, she felt that the doctor had something to do with it. She knocked again and received no reply. She twisted the doorknob to check whether he had gone out, but the door gave way, creaking ever so slightly to reveal the brown expanse of the doctor's home.<p>

"Oliver?" She called out. Nothing. She heard a thudding noise and she jumped. She decided to investigate and stepped further into the house. The thudding didn't cease. As she called out the thuds became more frequent. She eventually came to a door that seemed to lead to the basement. She slowly made her way down and saw a light illuminating a bed and a mass of glinting instruments covering the floor. Ophelia noted there were traces of blood on the stairs, the panic was starting to seep in. _'What the hell happened here?!'_ Ophelia's eyes darted around the darkness to try and make sense of what was going on.

She heard a quiet groan coming from the shadows and she turned cautiously in the direction of the noise. She saw a body slumped in the corner and recognised it to be Oliver Thredson immediately.

"Oh my God! Oliver!" Ophelia rushed over to him and pulled him up into a sitting position. "Oliver? Can you hear me?" She checked his pulse. It was slow. Too slow. He must have been unconscious. From the brief check she did of him there was no severe injuries, save for a horrible cut on his face, however nothing life threatening. He was muttering something in his sleep. She took the opportunity to take him out of the basement. It took some effort, but eventually she had placed him in his own bed in his bedroom and was searching frantically for a first aid kit.

When Oliver came to he was aware that there was another person in the room. What if it was Lana? Or the Police? He dared to brave opening his eyes. When he did, he saw none other than Ophelia sitting at the edge of his king sized bed occupied with something on the bedside table.

"What are you doing?" He asked, his voice barely above a broken whisper. She turned around stared at him blankly.

"Doctor Thredson, thank God, I was beginning to worry you wouldn't wake up," she said without a trace of emotion. "I haven't managed to get all of the glass out of your eye. I was going to do it now, with your permission..." Oliver slowly nodded and sat up closer to Ophelia as she readied her tweezers and bowl of warm water. She took hold of his face a little too firmly and started to pick out the shards of glass that had remained from the picture frame that had been smashed against his face from Lana Winters. Oh God, she had injected him. How long had he been out?

"What time is it?"

"It's about half ten at night." She replied distractedly.

"What day?"

"Tuesday."

"I've been out of it for a day,"

"It could have been worse, from the tranquilliser I found, you're lucky you aren't comatose," Ophelia said as she pulled out a shard of glass and placed it in the bowl. She took the hand towel and dabbed it against Oliver's temple.

"Why are you here, Ophelia?" Oliver asked after a moment. She lowered the towel and turned to face Oliver properly.

"Well I wanted to make sure Miss Winters wasn't completely unstable after her claims she made against you, but I'm afraid all of this does seem to work in her favour." Oliver glowered at Ophelia and she decided to ignore him by taking the bowl of murky water away to wash. "Look I'll take care of this," raising the bowl to him, "you get some rest, I'll check up on you in a couple of hours, make sure that cut isn't infected."

"Why are you staying?" He almost growled. Ophelia sighed heavily and put the bowl down, starting towards him.

"Look, Oliver, you're lucky I didn't call for an ambulance, or the police, they would've asked a lot more questions, believe me, now you get some rest and you're going to tell me what happened when you're not so sluggish…alright?"

Oliver slumped his shoulders in defeat and watched Ophelia walk out of the room. If he was going to take care of this, it would have to be now. He slowly and silently got out of bed and followed after Ophelia. She was in the kitchen washing out the bowl. She had no idea of the fate she was about to land. Oliver clenched and unclenched his fists as he snuck up behind her. He stood inches behind her and waited for her turn around. When she did, she gasped at his relative closeness until, she saw a hand rise to close around her throat. Her eyes widened and she instinctively kneed him in his groin. He groaned loudly and staggered backwards, allowing Ophelia to make a break for her escape. She stumbled in her heels but carried on running for her life. Oliver had caught up to her and aggressively grabbed at her ankle causing Ophelia to slam to the ground. She felt blood dripping from her mouth and nose and what's worse, she felt Oliver start to advance up her body and trap her beneath his much more imposing physique. He turned her onto her back and pinned her arms either side of her head.

"You have made a serious mistake, Doctor Harper." He growled. Ophelia did nothing. She couldn't. _'Think woman!'_ she thought furiously. She took a risk and prayed to some deity that it would work. She spread her legs to better accommodate him and leant up as best she could, lightly brushing her lips against his. Oliver lay on top of her confused at the sudden turn of events. She took advantage of his vacant expression and moaned as she fully captured his lips in a searing kiss. Oliver's arms holding hers in place, buckled as her tongue plundered his mouth. His eyes had closed and he had tentatively started to return her advances. Her legs were now fully wrapped around his waist and she could feel the beginnings of an erection press into her crotch. She would be lying if it wasn't distracting, but she had to focus. She waited until he had descended his lips to her neck, nipping and sucking, no doubt causing marks. She heard him moan quietly and she seized her opportunity. She slammed her legs against his waist as hard as she could, winding Oliver as he cried out and felt hot tears well up in his eyes. Ophelia took advantage of the doctor's prone state and turned them over so she was on top and she quickly went about wrapping her hands around his throat. She strained to maintain control as Oliver scrabbled to get her hands away from what little air he had left. She lifted his head and hit it against the floor repeatedly hoping to render him unconscious. He eventually loosened his grip on her and she stopped strangling him. She breathed deeply and stumbled away looking for the entrance. _'All the doors look the bloody same!'_ she panicked as she ran through the house. She came to yet another brown door and peered into the darkness, hoping it was to be her freedom. It wasn't. It looked like the door to the basement. She was so disorientated she span around to come face to face with a very determined looking Thredson. She opened her mouth to say something or scream, but Oliver grabbed the door and slammed the panel into her face, rendering her unconscious before she even hit the floor.

Silence.

Oliver had won.

He sighed in victory before gathering up the lifeless figure of Doctor Ophelia Harper and carrying her down to the basement. A place where Bloody Face was sure to have his fun with her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: It's been an awfully long time, I know. If anyone still gives a damn about this story I am so thankful. I've had all summer and I didn't do a damn thing. Now I'm at University, where I should be studying, but now I get my mojo back…work that one out. Anyways thanks soooooo much for sticking with this guys I would be very grateful reviews so I can see what direction I want to go in, because you are the people that read this :) Hopefully updates soon, but I can't promise anything, it's pretty hectic at the moment :S**

**Oh also M rated for this chapter- again not sure how this will be received...**

Ophelia came to with a burning pain across her entire body. Groaning, she rose from her lying position and realised that she in a bed.

Not her own.

Or Oliver's.

Where was she?

Her question would soon be answered when the sound of a door opened and a pair of footsteps made its way down the stairs. Okay, so she was in the basement.

"Hello?" She called out. She didn't get a response at first. She sighed in annoyance and stretched. That was when she heard the sound of metal clanking together. She flipped her covers away to find an iron clamp had been placed around her ankle. "Oh Jesus..." She muttered to herself before examining the chain, seeing if it could be broken with a bit of brute force. She was mildly impressed to find that it was a very strong chain and one that was not likely to break under great duress.

"It's a good chain, I made sure that it was unbreakable, especially after our Lana was able to break it so easily. And she's nowhere near as strong as you are..." Thredson commented as he came into the light and closer to her.

"Oh I'm not that strong…" Ophelia said her voice, surprisingly, unwavering. By now she had pieced all of the scraps of information and remembered what had happened before she had woken up in the basement and had come to one undeniable conclusion.

Oliver Thredson was Bloody Face.

"Well you certainly gave me a bit of a workout." Oliver was now settled on top of the bed leaning over her. She noticed he was holding something rubbery in his hands. The mask. He put it over his head and waited for Ophelia to scream.

It never came.

Instead she sat, mouth gaping a little and eyes narrowing. She appeared to be examining the mask. She was definitely not like the others.

"Are all those teeth from one victim or are they pieces of all of them?" She asked finally.

"What do you think?" He asked in a sinister manner.

"Well...I'd say a mix, however the front ones look like they've been sewn on recently, so I'd say that's your latest victim...Wendy isn't it?"

This angered Oliver. Why wasn't she screaming?! She should've been like all the other hysterical women who had been chained up to the bed. Or at least frozen in fear. Yet she was having a casual conversation about the victim's teeth! He jumped up from his seat and started pacing like a predator.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Ophelia didn't flinch. This enraged Oliver even more. "You know who I am and yet you're not scared about what I will do to you!" Ophelia straightened and fixed a concerned look in Oliver's direction.

"I'm not scared of you, I've had enough dealings with men you claim to be, but I know you're not really one of them." Oliver stopped pacing and gave her a scrutinising look. He slowly edged towards the bed and sat on the edge leaning over to see if Ophelia was trying to manipulate him. He found that she wasn't, unless she was a very good liar.

"You don't think I'm a monster?" Oliver asked, like a little boy. Ophelia reached towards Oliver's face and allowed her fingers to graze over the rubbery skin of the horrifying mask. When she was certain Oliver wouldn't slap her hand away she pushed the mask away from his face.

He looked so afraid, so childlike. Ophelia realised this was the first time she had seen Oliver without his thick glasses. He was a handsome man, even with the glasses, but without them he looked even better. Oliver leaned into Ophelia's hand that was resting on his face. Yes the man was dangerous, but she meant what she said. Oliver Thredson was not a ruthless killer. The Bloody Face murders were not for trophies, they were for intimacy. From Oliver's file, Ophelia had read that Oliver was placed into foster care from a young age. She assumed his mother was not a very nice or stable woman, if she would abandon her son at the age of four. That accounted for Oliver's progression into the field of psychology, to try and understand why this had happened to him. His descent into the predatory tracking and killing of women was an unfortunate side effect of the fact that there was no one to love and care for Oliver.

Her thoughts almost made her laugh, but it was true, she watched Oliver nuzzle her hand and he moaned softly when Ophelia trailed her hand through Oliver's hair. Like a puppy. Oliver lowered himself onto the bed and curled himself at Ophelia's side.

"I want to stop, I want to stop, please help me. I don't want to do this anymore," Oliver said over and over as he cried into Ophelia's shoulder. Ophelia hushed him and held him close as he cried. She sensed his repentance was real and she wanted to help him stop.

"I know," she said softly. "I know," she turned her head towards his so she could look him in the eye. The moment his watery eyes met hers, she did something she had wanted to do for a while.

She leant up and kissed Oliver on the lips. Oliver's eyes widened, but Ophelia was too wrapped up in emotion and adrenaline to really notice. Oliver soon returned her kiss and started to climb over her, settling himself on top of her. Ophelia gasped and spread her legs to allow them to be comfortable, as Oliver devoured her mouth, but unlike last time Ophelia had no intention of stopping or winding Oliver. Oliver's large calloused hands trailed down Ophelia's body and stopped at her breasts. He squeezed the flesh through her clothing before started to hastily unbutton her blouse. Ophelia sat up, still kissing him as Oliver peeled away the material and threw it in no particular direction. Taking advantage of their new position, Ophelia quickly untucked Oliver's shirt from his trousers and unzipped his fly, while Oliver shed his shirt and shucked his trousers. Ophelia tried to move to another position, but the sound of the metal chain stopped her. They both stopped and looked down at her ankle. They had temporarily forgotten that Ophelia was meant to be his prisoner. Oliver looked down ashamed, before delving into one of his trouser pockets and taking out a bunch of keys.

"I'm sorry, Ophelia," he said quietly, kissing her once, cupping her cheek before removing the clamp from her ankle and smoothing the slightly irritated skin there. Ophelia smiled and wiggled her foot playfully in his face. Oliver dodged her foot and snapped his head to Ophelia, who giggled. Oliver smirked and pounced on her, kissing and biting her skin, with renewed vigour.

"Oliver," Ophelia whispered in his ear. "Fuck me," she all but breathed. Oliver moaned against her skin as his greedy hands moved around to the clasp of Ophelia's bra. It snapped apart with little resistance and Oliver tore it away. Before Ophelia could even catch her breath, Oliver's mouth closed around her breast and his tongue swirled around her nipple. Ophelia whined and thrashed around on the bed, grabbing fistfuls of Oliver's hair allowing the gel in his hair to break apart and become fluffy and tousled. Oliver's erection dug insistently into Ophelia's belly, causing the two of them to gasp sharply. Oliver looked up from his task and stared open mouthed at Ophelia. She nodded her head slightly, in some unspoken agreement and the two of them sprang into action. Oliver jumped away to give Ophelia some room as she quickly pealed the pencil skirt from her body and dumped it with the mini pile of clothes. She reached for her panties, but Oliver pushed her back onto the mattress and hooked his fingers into her lace underwear. He took the time to glide them down her long legs, feeling the warm smooth skin that he passed. His breath shuddered when he looked back and saw she was completely bare to him. Ophelia lightly scraped her nails down Oliver's arms, urging him forward. Once again he was hovering above her, but without the look of murder in his eyes...

Then it all seemed to happen at once.

The sweet, exquisite pain that Ophelia had not felt for a good long while overwhelmed her as Oliver's hips worked like a piston, causing all sorts of garbled nonsense to escape her mouth. For those few precious moments, they seemed to forget where they were and what wretched position they were in. It was just them and their dark, sick and twisted desires. Ophelia buried her head in Oliver's neck as she felt her world start to crumble around her. She knew Oliver was a murderer and Kit Walker was a falsely accused man, yet there was something that was stopping her from going to the police and exposing the truth. She was fairly certain that Oliver would release her and she could go back to her ordinary life. Then again, would she ever be 'ordinary' after this?

Ophelia screamed as her climax hit, she grabbed onto Oliver for dear life as he rode out her orgasm with perfect thrusts. Her head fell back against the pillow as Oliver raced towards his end. She kept eye contact with him as he rested his forehead against hers, panting and groaning, coming to his own end. To help aid him she wrapped her legs around his waist and encouraged him by whispering sultry things in his ear. Oliver soon came with a roar and the sensation of the warmth that spread inside her, Ophelia gasped sharply and sunk her teeth into his neck. The two of them collapsed into each other, tangled up in their passion fuelled bodies.

Oliver eventually lifted his head up and kissed her heavily on the mouth. He leaned away and admired Ophelia's heaving naked chest, laughing to himself. When he met her eye, he kissed her again and whispered in her ear.

"Oh, you're so the one."

**Review? Pleeeeeeease?**


	8. Chapter 8

Ophelia awoke the next day to an empty room. However it was not the basement. It was Oliver's own bedroom. She sat up and wrapped the sheet loosely around her chest. The sun was escaping through the crack in the curtains, creating a warm hue to the room. She slid herself down in the cool sheets and stretched her body across the bed. Her foot peaked out from under the covers and she had almost forgotten that the ugly rash from the ankle clamp was still there. She stopped immediately and brushed her thumb over the redness. She hissed in pain, she had obviously hit a sensitive spot.

What the hell got into her last night?

One moment she was ready to see the pearly gates, then the next she was seeing so many stars from the so many orgasms Oliver had given her. Jesus Christ! She had had the best sex of her life with the Bloody Face killer!

And she had enjoyed it. By God she had enjoyed it.

And now, there was only one question her mind.

'_What now?'_

She spun the question around in her mind over and over, as Oliver quietly opened his bedroom door. He noticed her expression and came to sit behind her on the bed, waiting for her to snap out of her daydream. Maybe she was remembering last night? Oliver smirked in self-satisfaction and lightly kissed the back of her neck. He felt her jump slightly, so he raised his hand to her bare arms and rubbed them up and down gently, warming her up. His kisses became more insistent and he eventually managed to lay Ophelia on her back and climb over her.

"Good morning," he mumbled into Ophelia's neck. Ophelia sighed softly and fed her hand through his hair.

"Morning," she smiled kissing the top of his head. Oliver looked up at her and rested his chin on her chest. In the cold reality of day, he knew that there was a strong chance that she would regret their actions, but he could only hope that was not the case. He really didn't want to kill her.

"How are you feeling?" he asked after a silence. He saw the corners of her mouth turn up and her blush slightly. She shifted so she could lie on her side and run her fingers down his chest. She seemed to be looking intently at his chest hair. In truth she was trying to figure out what to do. She knew what he was and what he was capable of. Her rational mind was telling her to run. Run far away and never look back. However, a part of her knew that she wouldn't. She didn't want to, she wanted to stay with Oliver and put the whole Bloody Face behind them. Like that would ever happen. "Ophelia?" Oliver prompted again for the third time, she hadn't heard him. She was startled out of her thoughts and she looked up at him wide-eyed. Oliver's eyes narrowed.

"What do we do with Lana?"

To that Oliver smiled widely and kissed her hungrily.

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Oliver pulled up to Briacliff Manor and looked at the gloomy, eerie building in front of him. He had left Ophelia in his bed, naked and eagerly awaiting his return. He had read in the paper of the 'unfortunate' car accident and Lana's return to the asylum. He was going to end this, once and for all. As he wondered up the spiral staircase towards his office, he tried to plan what he would do with her body. _'Wait until it happens…then we'll know.' _Oliver's internal thoughts told him. He had initially thought he'd go to his office to think of a plan, but when he approached the door, he saw through the frosted glass a patient hunched over the desk dialling the phone. Nowhere to run. He opened the door silently and stepped inside. She hadn't heard him come in. he then slammed the door shut and watched with internal glee as Lana's terrified face turned to him.

"I hope you weren't planning on making a toll call." He spoke quietly, but his eyes had that dark edge, a look of murder.

"How did you find me?" Lana's voice shook.

"Well you were in a car accident, Lana. The details were in all the papers: 'Escaped mental patient, returned to ward'…"

"You'll never get away with this. Not as long as I have a voice," Lana said bravely. Poor, poor Lana.

"Oh, is that what you were doing on the phone you were gonna call the police?" Oliver spoke sarcastically. "Do you know what I've been doing since you left me? I've been in mourning. You made me kill Bloody Face. I've been through every inch of my house cleaning. No bone, no skin, no drop of blood escaped my scrutiny and the furnace has been burning red hot believe me-"

"You haven't made me disappear, I'm a witness." Lana cut in defiantly.

"To the courts?" Oliver asked as he tightened the phone cord around his hands. "An unreliable one at best. In fact I was just gonna let you talk, with no hard evidence who do you think they'll believe? The doctor or the patient?" He could see Lana's face start to fall, she was realising that he was right. "But then I thought about how you betrayed me. I opened my heart to you. I told you my story and you used it to confuse me, you made me give you my intimacy and that is a wrong that I mean to make right!" he punctuated his point by pounding his fist at the wall beside her head.

"You're insane, everyone is going to be able to see that." Lana said deliriously.

"I've lost so much recently, I feel like I've been set adrift in the open sea, but now that you're here so close to me again, well…I feel like I've been found." Lana tried to make her escape, but Oliver simply grabbed her and slammed her head against the wall. He felt her tremble and cry against him. He ignored her and tried to complete his work. "Do you believe in fate, Lana? Hmm?" he got a whimper as a reply. "We've been drawn together like magnets and I must admit I didn't fully understand why until now. I'm like the phoenix, I had to turn to ashes- Bloody Face had to burn so he could be born again…and your skin, will be the start of a whole new Bloody Face." He started to drag her away as she cried for help and kicked in protest. He opened his office door and saw a flash of something before he was knocked to the floor unconscious.

0000000000

Ophelia sat up in bed and checked the time. It was late. Too late and Oliver wasn't back yet. She knew enough to know that something had gone very, very wrong. Tomorrow she would go back to work and act as if nothing had happened, but she knew that as long as Kit and Lana were alive, she and Oliver weren't safe.

She was going to have to do something about that.

Hell, maybe she was fucking crazy after all.

**Author's Note: Well, well, well this chapter…sucked quite honestly. I'm sorry guys! All that wait for this crap. Part of the reason for this very late chapter, is because Uni and stuff has been soo busy, but also because I had absolutely NO FUCKING IDEA how to continue this story. I know how I want to end this story (I've known from the start-in fact I've already written it) but how to get there I have no idea. So I'm sorry! Please leave a review and suggestions on how you'd like to see the rest of the story pan out, but I do realise that this chapter is not a good one, just promise you won't be too harsh…**

**Sorry again, I love you all!**


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